


A break from the size pills,

by himboking



Series: mac gets fat (again) [1]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: AU, Bottom Mac McDonald, Dennis Reynolds POV, Dennis is a Bastard Man, Fat Mac, Fat Shaming, Feeding Kink, Force-Feeding, M/M, Stuffing, Teasing, Top Dennis Reynolds, Weight Gain, a tag im going to make a thing LOL, ptsd dennis reynolds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:00:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21935257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himboking/pseuds/himboking
Summary: in which dennis returns from a trip and finds himself inexplicably turned on from the results of macs weekend of stuffing himself in dennis' absence. mac finds himself having the "upper hand" sexually for once while dennis finds his reigns discovering a new, slightly uncontrollable part of his sexual interests. aka dennis reynolds has never actually really enjoyed sex in his life up until fucking fat mac and i WILL die on this hill
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Series: mac gets fat (again) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579582
Comments: 14
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

It was supposed to be temporary.

Dennis had planned it to be so— it was a quick weekend away. Two days he'd been out of town. It would be a temporary pause in dosage, and sure, preferably Mac would continue taking the size pills of his own volition, but without Dennis around waving the bottle in front of him twice a day, he knew Mac would likely forget them. Dennis expected as such, and sure, he could call to make sure if he really wanted, but two days couldn't do that much damage. And maybe Dennis was curious, curious to see whether or not Mac would disappoint him. And he would. He'd disappoint Dennis before returning to religiously swallowing the pills at his command— hell he'd probably try and take all the doses he missed at once as reparations. He'd apologize and beg for Dennis' help to remember. It'd be a little setback ending in a well-timed reminder of how much he needed him.

It wasn't, however, supposed to lead Mac to want to quit taking them all together.

Dennis returned to a war zone of the apartment he'd left two days prior. Bags of empty chips, empty boxes of candy, and a horrifyingly large array of empty takeout was strewn around the living room and kitchen. It was disgusting. It was way more damage than Dennis expected from his trip.

Mac was in the middle of it all, knocked out among boxes of pizza and cartons of ice cream. He'd eaten nearly everything in the apartment...and more. Clearly he'd made at least one or two trips to the store to stock up on more food, and he was obviously making use of grub hub— which they only used for dinners on movie night. Not for. Ordering the entire states array of cuisines.

And if he couldn't tell from the trash, Macs body gave away the scope of the binge he'd been on. He hadn't lost all the weight yet, far from it, and stuffed like this he nearly looked like he did 20 pounds ago. Dennis couldn't believe it. He expected Mac to relapse a little bit, sure, but just enough to help push a healthy amount of shame. Not enough to make him balloon like this. "Balloon" was unfortunately accurate, his belly was swollen, pushing his shirt up to his chest and his pants— God, his pants, Dennis realized, releasing a frustrated sigh. The button was fully missing, he could see the threads poking out from where it surely popped, it an obvious causality in Macs gluttonous rampage.

He spent his time taking it in. The initial rage from seeing the apartment in such a state had melted off a bit, replaced by a dull frustration and, surprisingly, curiosity. He'd been gone for two days. Dennis looked down at the sleeping man in front of him, getting closer to investigate the damage. He had food crumbs and drool on his face, and his stomach... It was that moment that he realized he'd never actually looked that closely at Macs stomach before. It was mostly smooth, but Dennis could see a few dark stretchmarks on his side, more remnants of his gluttony, yet he felt the inexplicable need to...touch them? Which he did, causing Mac to shuffle slightly in his sleep before Dennis ripped his hand back in surprise, entirely at himself. It was. Odd of him. To say the least.

He wasn't a stranger to touching Mac, of course. The two men had had their lives intertwined for so many years it wasn't surprising that some... Less than attractive feelings came into play on occasion. But not while Mac was like this. He stopped having sex with Mac the moment he noticed the pounds were piling on— he wasn't about to validate this sort of behavior. So the feeling of Macs side was new. Obviously he himself hadn't hadn't had anything above an optimal bmi in decades, in fact his often dipped far below the "healthy" category for his height and, well, he wasn't exactly one for banging fat women (well. Okay, three times, he had, a decade prior. And all three times might have ranked in the top ten of his escapades, but he was above that kind of thing.) 

Dennis wasn't sure where the desire came from, though he assumed it came from a similar reason as to why people can't tear their eyes away from a car crash. Meaning, he couldn't tear his eyes away. He wondered, for purely psych related reasons, how the food was split between the two days. Going off of the size of Macs stomach alone, he must've been stuffing himself to capacity every hour. He probably ate more today after stretching his stomach the day before. Or, Dennis realized, it could've taken a day for the size pills to wear off. This could've been all one binge. It'd be larger than any of his binges he went on at a higher weight sure— but he never as much set out to binge as he just slowly shoved food in his mouth most of the day. It'd make sense for him to get out of control like this, of course the minute his appetite started returning he'd want to eat everything. It looked like he'd ordered every craving he could think of. Did he eat it all in one day? Not that Dennis cared, he assured himself, trying his best to ignore the rush of feeling below his stomach. It wasn't from this. It couldn't be from Mac like this, belly hanging out of his shirt, his pants so pathetically stretched, nearing their breaking point...It was disgusting. It was the result of Macs reckless loss of control, the aftermath of hours of Mac mindlessly cramming more and more food down his throat, stretching his shirt further and further up like a goddamn pig—

"Uh, Dennis?" Mac spoke suddenly, and Dennis' eyes whipped back up to meet Macs eyes, which, he realized, were travelling down to his pants, which definitely now contained an incredibly unfortunate and obvious erection. 

"Um." Dennis' nostrils flared as he willed his penis to return to its flaccid state, but it didn't, and it didn't because Mac was still lying there, looking like an entire wreck of a goddamn person, a goddamn pig, it was.... "Disgusting. This is disgusting. I..."

He stopped, realizing Mac was still staring between his hips, transfixed, and Dennis growled with frustration, "I'm. This is. No." He threw his hands into the air and whipped around before storming off to his bedroom, still obnoxiously and disgustingly erect.

"Dennis, wait!"

"NO." He stated simply before slamming the door shut behind him before promptly locking it. If Mac called after him he couldn't hear it, which Mac knew, of course. He did expect something though, for the door to shake from Mac knocking, or from him attempting to get it open. But there was nothing. Dennis released a sigh, dramatically falling back to sit on his bed. That was. Embarrassing. He hadn't lost control of himself in that way in a long time. Fucking Mac, he hissed between his teeth, that fat fuck. Why, Dennis wondered, why in the hell was this happening? He was a man of exquisite taste. He was a connoisseur of fit, thin, hot bodies. Hot, hard, not at all like a fucking overfilled water balloon bodies. He bangs 9s and 10s, not whatever the hell Mac was eating himself into. He looked gross, and huge, and disgusting. It made no sense.

But there Dennis was. Still hard.

"Fuck it." He muttered, flopping back on his bed and lowering his pants. He deserved to get off after having to witness Mac unconscious and stuffed surrounded by his own trash. He deserved to get off after being forced to walk through the carcasses of all of the empty calories Mac had consumed. Disgusting. Stuffing himself like that, defiling his body. He'd probably keep going if it weren't for Dennis. Tomorrow he'd order the same amount, if not even more fast food, too lazy to even get to the goddamn store. He'd stuff himself like a goddamn pig again and again, stretching his stomach larger and larger— that fucking fat bastard, undoing all of Dennis' hard work, eating away the money he poured into trying to get him back into shape. If this was two days he couldn't imagine what kind of ungodly damage Mac'd do in a week—

It was at this moment, that Dennis realized he could imagine Mac after a weeks worth of stuffing. It was also, inexplicably, the same moment he came. Hard. He'd made a goddamn mess of himself. It took only a few minutes. He hadn't come like that since—

"Size pills." Dennis muttered, ending his train of thought, "He's got to get back on the size pills."


	2. Mac Says No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dennis calms down and returns to kindly suggest that Mac resumes taking his size pills. Mac is more interested in pizza. Dennis doesn't like being ignored. Non descriptive sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to people who commented on the first chapter! i kept writing it because of the kind words. hope y'all enjoy

Dennis eventually decided to return to the living room, after cleaning himself off of course. He spent a while in the bathroom fixing himself up, but he also made sure to grab a dose of the size pills on his way out. He opened the door to be immediately hit with a wall of pizza stench, mixing with the various stale food scents the apartment now possessed. He couldn't believe it. He slid out of the bathroom into the living room to see Mac, still awake, now eating a fresh pizza.

"You're kidding me." Dennis deadpanned. 

"Hm." Mac muffled, mouth full, He seemed to be smirking.

"You just ordered that."

"Mhm."

"And what," Dennis sighed, bringing his hands to his temples, "Possessed you to possible think you needed more food?"

"I was hungry." Macs smirk got a little bigger, his eyes more playful before adding on, "You seemed to like it."

All of the initial rage Dennis had spent time carefully tucked away rushed back into him immediately, hitting him with full force.

"Like it?" He repeated slowly, his nostrils flaring as he felt his face heating up— from anger, obviously, he could only be angry at the scene in front of him, this situation only called for his absolute fury. Nothing else. 

"Mhm." Mac seemed to almost hum in response. He was still eating of course. He'd already made it through half of the pizza, and upon closer inspection Dennis could see two more boxes sat beside him in wait, another pizza and a side of breadsticks (side being a generous description, it was more like two meals for a regular person). Dennis' anger didn't slow his eating at all— and he watched in horror as Mac finished off a third of a piece in one bite before grabbing another piece to inhale.

"I do not." He paused, rubbing his temples harder as he willed his voice to level out, "Like. This." His jaw tightened in frustration, "This." He continued slowly, "Is unacceptable." 

"Didn't look like it." Mac smiled, his eyes then flickering down to Dennis' shirt before his smile grew even more.

"What." Dennis demanded. Mac shrugged, clearly trying to hide his amusement. He wasn't hiding it, of course, because Mac was always as easy to read as a book, and he was obviously delighted by— Dennis glanced down where Mac had been looking and he felt his anger dip away for just a moment, replaced by abject horror. It was a tiny spot. You wouldn't notice it if you weren't looking. You wouldn't guess what it was unless...you had just seen your adult roommate, twenty minutes before, stood in front of you with a goddamn hard on. The realization of what Mac knew washed over him like a freezing wave. He could feel the chilling shame curl around every inch of his body— except for his face, which was now heating up hotter than ever before.

Mac didn't grace him with a response, he only happily finished off another slice before grabbing yet another one. Dennis watched as he took two large bites of the grease covered pizza, finishing over half of it in one go before pausing to grab a two liter of coke Dennis hadn't noticed sitting beside him.

"You're not."

But he was. Mac silently unscrewed the bottle and began gulping it down, eyes closed. Dennis watched, face contorted in anger and humiliation as he noticed the way Macs belly bobbed up and down with each gulp. Mac continued downing the calorie filled liquid until half of it was drained. In a matter of seconds he had added hundreds of calories to his daily total. Dennis realized. One serving is one hundred and forty calories and thirty nine grams of sugar, Dennis thought to himself automatically without at all meaning to, before he found himself mentally doing the math— six servings in one bottle, he must've drank around three in that gulp, so one, two three hundred plus one hundred and twenty; four hundred and twenty calories with four, eight twelve minus three; one hundred and seventeen grams of sugar. He had the caloric amount memorized from the rum and cokes he'd occasionally indulge in. Though he would usually half the serving size if he didn't have diet on hand, so only six ounces meaning he'd only be putting back seventy calories, which isn't horrible but it usually took a fair amount of internal convincing to waste that many calories on liquid that wasn't entirely alcohol. But there was Mac. Downing close to five hundred calories in a matter of seconds without a second thought. And that of course didn't include the pizza, which Dennis had no comparison to other than the cheeseless pizza he'd have on very, very rare occasions— two hundred and ninety calories per serving that he always cut in half, of course, having only a small slice worth one hundred and forty five calories. That entire pizza was about nine hundred calories in all, which was probably nothing compared to the cheesy, greased up monstrosity Mac was currently eating with reckless abandon. He'd probably eaten over a thousand calories in this short meal alone, Dennis realized, and suddenly he felt the same buzz of energy and curiosity in his stomach from earlier. 

He also suddenly become cognizant of the fact that he had been staring at Mac, who was staring right back at him, still smiling, now back to shoving pizza into his mouth. 

"You want to sit down?" Mac asked, patting the spot next to him, specifically the only spot on the couch not currently occupied by food or food waste.

"Mac, this is..." Dennis began before stopping abruptly, sighing and sitting next to the gluttonous display that currently was his roommate. He hunched over, returning to rubbing his temples, trying to find some sort of clarity in his head, trying to find what to say— a solution, an insult, a command, something... He straightened up, suddenly, digging in his pocket to pull out the dose of the size pills he'd grabbed earlier.

"Have you taken your size pills today?" Dennis asked, trying to keep his voice steady and emotionless. Of course he hadn't. He knew that.

"Nope." Mac said cheerfully, not slowing down his pizza consumption. 

"And...why...is that?" Dennis hissed through his teeth, clenching and unclenching his jaw in an attempt to keep down the feeling in his stomach, the feeling that was obviously anger and nothing else at all, of course, because the only proper response to this....situation was nothing but disgust.

"Well," Mac started as he unscrewed the coke bottle again, "I forgot em'. And then— " He paused, bringing the bottle back to his lips, making Dennis wait and watch him as he chugged the bottle yet again, making his belly jiggle up and down like before. Though it was...stiffer than earlier. Mac had nearly finished the entire pizza, and his stomach had clearly stretched to make room. He realized he could see Macs stomach slowly and slightly expand with each gulp, pushing his pants just slightly further and further apart before Mac finished draining the two liter bottle, then putting his chubby hand over his stomach to, to Dennis' horror, rub and jiggle it at the exact moment he opened his eyes to meet Dennis' gaze— who immediately ripped his attention away from the other man's stomach, because there was no part of him, absolutely no part of him, that wanted to see the way Macs overstuffed belly shook and jiggled the rest of his fat body. He absolutely did not feel a spark of anything besides fury as Mac loudly slapped his belly, to which he absolutely only returned his gaze at that moment because of the disgusting sound, not because he wanted to see how the carbonation of two liters of coke shook and bubbled in Macs belly. It was like a car crash, Dennis reminded himself, it's impossible to look away, that doesn't prove anything besides the fact that Mac was a mess.

"Mm," Mac sighed, eyes closed, still rubbing his belly while tossing the empty coke bottle away with his other hand.

"Mac."

"Mm?" He opened his eyes again, sleepily, staring at Dennis with half lidded, doe eyes. He still had that smile. Bastard.

"The size pills." Dennis stated slowly, trying to not let the heat boiling in his stomach bubble up into his tone, now steadfastly maintaining Macs gaze.

"Oh yeah." He leaned over to grab another slice of pizza, and Dennis did not look at the way his pants pulled further apart, or how much his stomach strained his shirt, "I forgot to take 'em. And then I got hungry, like really hungry. I was the bar and like, you know there's not a lotta food there. So I figured beers like, uh, liquid food, and I ended up drinking...a lot. But beer's really not food, so after I was good and drunk I picked up some stuff on the way home."

"Some" Dennis muttered under his breath, scoffing slightly, "And then you remembered your size pills?" Dennis asked, annoyed. He didn't ask for the story of Macs binging, he had no interest in hearing how he got to this point.

"Well. No." Mac paused to take a bite, then, "But I ate... I haven't eaten that much in...I don't know how long. But get this, eventually I pass out, right, but I wake up the next morning and—"

"Took your size pills." Dennis interrupted, hoping to steer this conversation away from Macs eating and more towards a solution.

"Well I woke up and I was even hungrier than the day before. I was so hungry, bro. I haven't been that hungry before, not even when I had that perfect amount of mass and needed tons of calories to keep my massive body working right, you know? Like I was always hungry back then, but not hungry like this, Den, I was starving." 

He paused to catch his breath, wheezing a little before muting the sound by shoving more pizza into his face, finishing the piece. "So I started ordering a whole bunch of food, really everything that sounded good and like," He reached for another piece of pizza, but the box was empty, "Everything sounded good." He opened the second box of pizza and grabbed a slice, "Waiting was the worst. I kind of ate everything around the apartment the day before...so there wasn't anything to snack on while waiting, and Den I swore I was gonna die...I was so hungry, it was like I got possessed by a demon— but like, a good demon, like a Godly demon of pure mass that was here to help me get back to my old shape."

"Uh huh." Dennis responded flatly, not at all noticing the grease starting to form on the sides of Macs mouth, or how Mac couldn't decide between eating and speaking, or how hard he was breathing from the effort— he was simply listening for the size pills. Mac took a particularly large bite and closed his eyes as he chewed, at which moment Dennis grabbed a pillow and placed it in his lap. For comfort. Obviously.

"And finally some of the food started arriving. And it kept on arriving. When I was ordering it was like that Godly demon took over, I had no clue what food was coming, and it just kept on coming. So I ate and ate and Den...it felt so good. Food always feels good, you know? But lately foods been like cardboard or something, just tasteless, the spark was all gone. I knew I loved food still but it just stopped hitting right...But the last few days everything has tasted so good." He rubbed his belly again, smiling, "So I kept eating. And that hunger didn't really go away, so I didn't really stop...well I did...for naps and stuff...and napping was like a reset button...I'd go to sleep and wake up and the hunger was back, full force. The demons like. Insatiable, man. It's like a gift from God."

"God's gift...is making you into an a goddamn pig, Mac?" Dennis growled, losing his patience, "I asked you...about the goddamn size pills..." Dennis reminded him again, trying to level out his voice again.

"I know!" Mac said excitedly, "Cause like. Well here's the thing. Eventually I was layin' there, you know, feeling Gods bliss, rubbin' my stomach, thinkin' about how lucky I was to be able to enjoy food like this again...And it hit me. Like. What changed? Cause what if it went away? What if stuff started tasting like cardboard again. I was on my way to being a perfect specimen of mass again, I had to make sure this like. Mass demon stayed in me, you know? So I had to know what changed...And then it hit me..." He paused, letting out a loud burp. Dennis shifted uncomfortably under the pillow. In disgust, clearly. "The size pills. I realized I had to take a dose, to like, make sure these gains kept going, you know. But then I realized that I hadn't taken the size pills the whole weekend. And now I had this gift from God, this blissful feeling from eating— "

"From eating." Dennis repeated, flatly.

"From eating a lot. It feels amazing. My stomach gets so big and tight and the more I eat the more good it feels...Like a said, total gift from God. But thinking about the size pills, I thought it was maybe time for a little science."

"Science."

"Yeah. Like an experiment. So I got a bunch more food that I was real excited about eating. I was so pumped up, ready to go. But before I ordered everything, I took my size pills dose again. And I mean, I hoped my hypothee...hypath...hypooth—"

"Hypothesis." Dennis offered, still straining to keep his voice level. His face felt red hot by this point. Because of all the disgust. Of course.

"Yeah...that. I hoped it was wrong. Cause I wanted to get hungrier, I wanted to make the food feel even more better, you know. But I was suspicious... By the time the food came around, I wasn't hungry anymore. I tried eating this burger— it was double stacked with bacon and egg, I had like. Been drooling when I ordered it I was so damn excited...but it didn't taste good. Nothing did. Everything was like cardboard again. So I started freaking out, like, what if I just exorcised the mass demon. But then I realized I'd taken the size pills, so my hypithesis was right! They're bunk. Whoever sold em' to youse is selling you bad product. This whole time they've been defective! That's why I was losing so much mass."

Dennis didn't know what to say. Mac took this as a sign to continue.

"Next morning— oh, today, this was this morning. The hunger was back. And I skipped my size pills again, and look! I've been eating all day. No cardboard taste. This pizzas fucking great, fuck I wish I ordered more. Luckily I got leftovers in the fridge...I'm back, Den! I'm loving it...it's like I don't get full...just...stuffed...and a little sick but that's from the hunger I think... I'm going to be back to my old size in no time." He finished off his sentence and grabbed his belly, jiggling it up and down in triumph. 

"Mac...you have to take your size pills."

"Didn't you hear me? They're defective."

"They're not defective, they are perfectly perfect product." Dennis' voice spiked in pitch at the end as he began losing his composure, "If anything they are Gods gift, better than Gods gift, they're a gift from me. You can't just stop taking your size pills, Mac!"

"Well. I can. And I did. And it's going great, much more better than while I was taking them. Sorry, Den, they're bad product."

"They are not bad, and you must take them!"

"No." Mac responded simply, returning to eating his pizza.

"NO?" Dennis growled.

"I'm not taking those things again." Mac shrugged before grabbing the TV remote and flicking on the TV.

"You do not simply stop taking them, Mac. You cannot just...do this." Dennis waved his hands around dramatically, referring to the boxes of empty takeout and trash surrounding them. He felt like he was going to explode— exactly how Mac looked like he was going to explode, which only made Dennis' anger more powerful, he found himself shaking as he spat out, "You can't just..." He trailed off, his brain firing and buzzing on all cylinders, leaving him, for once, wordless.

"Why not?"

"You can't just...sit around...and eat like a fucking pig, Mac! Do you fucking see yourself right now, surrounded by, by...trash...and calories...and...fatness! It's disgusting. You're fucking...bursting at the seems, Mac!" Dennis was yelling now.

"I like how I look. You're just mad 'cause you like it too." Mac was grinning now.

"LIKE IT?" Dennis roared, "I do not like to see you stuffing your fat goddamn face with grease...and sugar...and just...garbage! You're eating garbage. This..." He gestured wildly to Mac as he ate, "Is unacceptable." Mac rolls his eyes, taking another bite, "STOP IT. I DEMAND you STOP eating that fucking pizza!"

Mac brought the piece of pizza to his lips, grinning even more as his eyes sparkled mischievously, "Make me."

Without a seconds delay, Dennis was on top of him, grabbing and pulling a fistful of hair as he brought Macs fat face to his own, their lips messily crashing together. He tasted like pizza, of course, but Dennis could taste hints of whatever else he had been mindlessly shoving into his mouth all that day, that entire weekend. The disgusting taste only fueled Dennis' anger further, and he bit down on the other man's lip. Hard.

Mac let out a mixture of a moan and a yelp of pain, trying to pull back, "Gentle" He mutters before Dennis yanked his head back further, holding his head in place by his short brown hair. This hurt more, Dennis realized with a flurry of energy in his stomach. Fucking finally, the stupid little smirk on Macs face was gone. 

"Why the hell..." Dennis began breathlessly, yanking Macs hair again to expose his neck, spitting near his ear, "Would I be gentle with a goddamn pig?"

He had never been one to leave hickies. He liked receiving them, of course, loved being with someone young and desperate enough to give them. But he wasn't desperate, no, Dennis never was. This was about control. Getting back control over Mac, putting him back in his place. Of course that's what this was, Dennis thought as he left yet another bite mark on the other man's neck. He was fucking pissed and he wanted Mac to feel it. He leaned closer onto him, pressing his own body onto Macs firm, stuffed stomach.

"Aah, D-dennis," Mac started pulled back again, a worried look on his face.

Dennis pressed himself against him harder, tightening his grip with one hand and cupping his face with the other, "What? What's the problem?"

"Y-you're—" a small burp interrupted him before he continued, "You're hurting my stomach."

"I'm hurting your stomach?" Dennis laughed, "Maybe if you hadn't devoured our entire apartments and more worth of food, you wouldn't be stuffed like this, and it wouldn't fucking hurt so much."

"I was hungry." Mac whined, beginning to angle his hips up towards Dennis',

"Fucking pathetic." Dennis growled, "Are you still hungry now?" He asked, leaning down to leave another mark on the other side of Macs neck, who moaned, but said nothing, "Come on, Mcdonald, is your fat ass still hungry?" Dennis demanded again. 

"Lil' bit..." Mac said hesitantly, squirming underneath Dennis, who, while much smaller now, had him pinned in place.

"How much have you eaten today?" He asked, breath hot on Macs neck.

"I had burgers before this— " Macs voice melted into a moan as Dennis continued his attack on his neck.

"Burgers? As in multiple?"

"I-I ordered a few meals...from a real fancy place...all came with fries but I—" Another moan, "Ordered two extra sides....'nd some chocolate cake but I saved that for later..."

"You ate all that and still ordered pizza?" Dennis replied, the hand not pulling his hair then wandered down to his side, resting on Macs lovehandle.

"Y-yeah...Cake was too rich though...pizzas easy but I couldn't finish the cake..."

"How much of that did you eat?" Dennis asked, curiously squeezing Macs side as he kissed down his neck. Mac arched his hips up and moaned louder than before at this, to Dennis' surprise.

"Just half..."

"Of a piece?"

"No..."

"You got an entire fucking chocolate cake?" Dennis asked, impressed— shocked. And disgusted that Mac had managed to fit all of that in one day, and all before the pizza as well...

"Yeah..." Mac paused for a second, then quietly added, "Sounds good now though...A piece, maybe...a little one..."

Dennis pulled back, letting go of Macs hair to stare at the mess in front of him. Mac was still grinding his hips up at him, and still had that stupid half lidded doe look, only now his face was all red, sweat forming above his brow.

"You're still hungry?"

"Lil' bit..."

"And you want...a piece of cake." That energy was bubbling in his stomach again, stronger than it had before— the anger, or the disgust, probably, "Right now?"

"Mhm..." The other man looked hopefully up at Dennis, sticking out his bottom lip a bit. There was that disgust.

"Pathetic..." Dennis muttered, but yet he found himself getting up and walking to the fridge all the same. The cake was surrounded by tons of leftovers, most of which, it seemed, were either halfway or almost entirely eaten up. The cake itself was larger than Dennis had expected, but then again, he thought to himself, what did he expect that glutton would order? He grabbed the cake and whipped around to the silverware drawer, reaching for a knife to slice it before pausing for a moment. He thought it over, then turned around again to face the fridge. I wonder, Dennis thought as he opened the freezer, Yep. There it is. There were four new gallons of ice cream, all of them halfway or more empty. He grabbed the fullest one— a chocolate peanut butter swirl, before grabbing a large spoon and the cake, balancing them as he returned to Mac, who had started getting himself off through his pants.

"Den," He said,taken aback, "I just wanted a piece..."

"Hm." Dennis said flatly, taking his place on Macs lap again, "Mac...wasn't it you who said 'the more you eat the better it feels'?" Dennis asked, his voice now a little too sweet.

"Well, yeah, but—"

"And," Dennis interrupted, shoving a spoonful of cake into Macs mouth, "Wasn't it you who referred to that feeling, that feeling of eating too much, as 'a gift from God'?" Dennis smiled, preparing a large spoonful of ice cream.

"Yes, but—" He was interrupted again by Dennis feeding him the ice cream.

"Then I see...no reason why you'd have a problem with this." He lowered his voice at the end, and got Macs next spoonful ready— both cake and icecream, the large bite barely balancing on the spoon.

"It's just." He paused to chew his food a little, "A lil' rich...After..." he swallowed, "The pizza."

"Are you telling me...that eating this amount of food...has consequences?" Dennis shoved another bite in his mouth, before sweetly asking, "Are you feeling a little sick?"

Mac opened his mouth to respond but Dennis just put another bite into his mouth instead. He felt Mac harden beneath him.

"You like this?" Dennis demanded, voice cold again, "You like being fed? Like a pig?" Mac was still chewing, so Dennis took the time to scoot back and reach for Macs pants, "Oh yeah, look at this. I don't even have to unbutton your pants, because you already split them open with your fat gut. Just a few days of eating and this is how you look. Fucking pathetic."

Mac stayed quiet, opening his mouth and rubbing his hips up needily against Dennis, who obliged and fed him another large bite.

"Look at you. What a fat slut... How am I even supposed to reach your dick? Your pants are practically plastered on." Mac took this as an invitation to grab his pants and slowly pull them down, bobbing up and down, causing both his stomach and Dennis to jiggle the same way. With massive effort he got his pants down past his thighs, revealing his current lack of underwear.

"This is new." Dennis comments, touching the bare skin of Macs hips who shivered beneath him.

"Mm...underwear was too tight..." He swallowed the remainder of food in his mouth, "Was leaving marks nd stuff."

"Unlike your pants, which obviously fit just perfectly." He put another bite into Macs mouth.

"Can't get food from...the delivery driver if...you've got no pants..." He breathed out slowly between chewing.

"Yeah, because forcing a poor worker to see your belly hanging out of the pants you burst open with your shirt halfway up is a completely acceptable alternative."

Mac blushed even more, and opened his mouth to speak again before Dennis promptly shoved an overflowing biteful of ice cream and cake into his mouth that Mac dutifully chewed and swallowed before sighing, "You gotta...slow down...'ts rich...Hard to..."

"Then shut the fuck up and chew your food." Dennis said, ignoring the food still in Macs mouth as he put a larger bite into his mouth with one hand as the other snuck down to start jacking the other man off. Mac moaned loudly in between bites, eating faster once Dennis started touching him. They continued like this for awhile, Mac moaning for more and Dennis dutifully feeding him until the icecream was empty and only a piece or so of the cake remained. At some point Mac began rubbing his own belly, and Dennis found himself staring at Mac do this (once Macs eyes fluttered closed while being fed, of course). Part of him was angry at mac for rubbing something other than Dennis' cock, but most of him just wanted to watch him nurse his swollen, gurgling belly. He couldn't look away, like a car crash, he assured himself again, it's hard to look away from a wreck. Dennis chose to focus instead on feeding Mac faster, not wanting to think anymore about why he couldn't look away, or why he was in this situation in the first place. 

But Mac closed his mouth, shaking his head, "'m too full..."

"Too full?" Dennis repeated, his anger bubbling up again, "You weren't too full to eat that entire goddamn pizza."

"T-that was before," He moaned, pushing his hips further into Dennis' touch.

Dennis smirked, letting go, "Fine." He said sweetly, "We'll be done."

Mac moaned in frustration, reaching down to resume where Dennis left off, but Dennis slapped his hand away, making Mac moan— from frustration or horniness, or both, Dennis wasn't sure of the percentage of each. 

"You want to finish? Then you finish."

Macs eyes widened in shock, but he opened his mouth again nonetheless. Dennis slowly fed him the rest of the cake, not touching him despite Macs doe eyes and desperate grinding. He loved seeing him like this. Horny, and desperate, and so out of control. It was like there was a fire in Dennis' stomach.

Only once mac had licked the spoon clean and finished the entire cake did Dennis return to touching him, slowly at first, but faster as he noticed precum already dripping from his tip. He slid his hand up and down quickly as he himself grinded on the other man's leg.

"'m close..." Mac moaned, reaching up to desperately scratch on Dennis' back.

"Already— " He began quizzically, but Mac had already cum into his hand and onto his own, swollen, jiggling stomach; the realization of which sent Dennis, to his complete surprise, over the edge. He hadn't even taken off his pants. He turned red, avoiding Macs gaze.

Mac on the other hand let out a casual yawn and began lightly scratching Dennis' back, who was still sat limply on his lap. 

"Hey Den?" Mac asked quietly after a while, "Think you could...rub my belly...? I feel kinda sick...after..." He trailed off, blushing.

Dennis narrowed his eyes and looked around at the mess surrounding them— at the empty pizza boxes, the empty plate of cake, the empty ice cream, the discarded spoon he'd fed Mac with, down at his own pants and his now sweaty shirt, then back to Mac, and his cum and crumb covered stomach, his stretched out shirt, his uncovered lap. 

"No." He said flatly, draining the emotion from his voice, "I need to clean myself up— you need to clean yourself up. I'm going to shower."

"I'll come with you." Mac said hopefully.

Dennis looked at the other man up and down, flaring his nostrils a bit, "No." He said, and just like that Dennis had gone into the bathroom, leaving Mac alone to clean up the mess.

Once in the bathroom Dennis stripped down, turning the water as hot as it could go before leaning against the sink, staring at the drain, very purposefully avoiding his own gaze. His breathing was shallow now, faster, and as the hot steam started wrapping around him and clouding the mirror, Dennis Reynolds realized he was having an anxiety attack of all things— which was almost as embarrassing and pathetic as what he had just— He shook his head, then finally looking up to meet his own eyes in the mirror. He took a deep breath, and narrowed his eyes, willing himself to stop this shit. He then closed his eyes, once, then opened them to again stare down his now expressionless face. That didn't happen, he thought to himself before stepping into the scalding hot water. That didn't happen he repeated, giving into the burning feeling on his skin and letting his mind fade into a dull static.

He comes out of the shower dressed and leaves the apartment without a word.

Mac pulls out the whiskey and some more ice cream.

He later finds the size pills left carefully on the bathroom counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm having more fun writing this than i thought! chapter 3 coming real soon. get ready for more dennis reynolds stupid bastard man.
> 
> come talk 2 me on tumblr about fat mac PLEASE https://fatify.tumblr.com/
> 
> also i write dennis with ptsd. i think he's sexually repressed as hell hence the anxiety attack / dissociation immediately following enjoyable sex. i think dennis hasn't had a real orgasm w/ another person in years. also come to my tumblr to discuss biseuxal ptsd sexually repressed dennis.
> 
> there are two hills i will die on : mac should be fat and dennis has cptsd thank you and goodbye


	3. Whiskey and a Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little drinking during movie night triggers some much needed softness.

He wasn't going to make a habit of it. He wasn't. It was a fluke.

A fluke he repeated four days later, sure, but that didn't mean anything. They had continued like normal— at least Dennis had done his best to. Mac, on the other hand, seemed to be in on the world's biggest joke. He was all long stares and small smiles, and other obnoxious displays of...something. Something that Dennis decidedly did not like. Something that felt like Mac, of all people, knew something he didn't. 

It took four days of this for him to boil over. 

And it happened again. This time had a little more drinking. It was a little rougher. Dennis got a little lost from himself again, not enough for it to be a thing, just...an observation. He wasn't there, it was fine. 

But then they woke up in the morning. And it happened again. And that time felt a little like relief. And Dennis didn't mind when Mac asked to stop for food on the way to work. A little later in the day he found himself cutting off a yell. There were some differences. He was probably dizzy. 

And then it didn't happen for a day, because Dennis was in control, and he didn't want it to happen for a day, so it didn't. It was as simple as that. Sure he sprinkled in a little avoidance— made himself leave the apartment everytime Mac started eating again— just because he was tired of seeing it, of course. It was always a huge display. Of course Dennis was tired of seeing such open gluttony. 

The next day was another fluke. His signals got crossed, or something. Mac, Dennis had realized, really hadn't slowed down in his eating. It was starting to show. It was always showing, really, but it really showed that afternoon and maybe there were some feelings Dennis had about that somewhere, but mostly not really at all though. Mostly he was indifferent— disgusted, actually, he really had. Negative feelings. That he felt in him. 

That night was movie night. At some point Dennis opened a bottle of whiskey and it didn't take long before he found himself handing the bottle between him and Mac back and forth from across the couch. It was a quieter night than usual, but it wasn't in an uncomfortable way. 

It was about three fourths of the way into the movie that Dennis realized Mac was staring at him. He was surprised at what came next, though.

"Den." Mac said after catching the other man's eyes.

"Hm?" Dennis hummed, leaning over to hand the bottle back to Mac.

"No, I..." Mac took the bottle from him before setting it aside, "You're clearly freezing."

"...So?" Dennis responded flatly, slightly annoyed that Mac put their bottle out of commission. 

"So I'm like. A heater now, bro. Come here." He opened his arms up, looking expectantly at Dennis, who simply narrowed his eyes.

"Don't be stupid. Just come on."

Dennis continued staring for a moment before slowly crawling across the couch and reluctantly settling in Macs arms, which immediately closed around him. Mac was right, after all. He was freezing. The alcohol burning in his stomach hadn't exactly warmed him up. He rested his cheek against Macs chest and wrapped one arm around his stomach, hand resting on his waist. He had no intention of staying for long, just as long as it took for the heat radiating off of Mac to become annoying— which it inevitably would. 

Before long the movie was over and the two men were still entangled. Dennis had fallen asleep.

Mac had no desire to bring this moment to an end, so he settled in and shut his own eyes, letting his fullness aid him into drifting slowly into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is short! xoxoxo if u liked this consider commenting perhaps ! this is still my first fic so it helps


	4. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get soft, again.

Maybe it wasn't supposed to be this simple. But it was. It was a short text a little past 12am, nothing fancy, nothing long.

Just a simple emoticon. One simple frozen face. Dennis wasn't exactly sure what he expected from it, how he thought Mac would respond. He assumed Mac wouldn't get it, that he'd be met with a question mark or a confused face, or something else, something else that he couldn't predict, something equally as simple but most likely doubly frustrating. He'd have to send a couple more emojis in addition to his text, and maybe then Mac would comprehend what exactly he meant. Even more likely, though, was that he'd have to send even more emojis, or god forbid, a written explanation, to get it through Macs skull. 

What he didn't expect, though, was his door to quietly open a few minutes later. For Mac to carefully tiptoe across his room, for Mac to gently lift the covers before lowering himself into the bed with the other man. No, what Dennis Reynolds definitely did not anticipate, was Mac to perfectly understand and deliver on his needs. 

His warmth immediately overtook his body as Mac slid under the covers to wrap himself around him.

"Hey." Dennis said simply. Mac immediately smelled the alcohol on his breath— there was an empty bottle of vodka on Dennis' nightstand after all. He didn't expect anything else, of course, it was just accepted that they all drank constantly. Obviously Dennis had dranken before heading to bed— hell, Mac himself nursed more than his fair of whiskey before even starting to think about going to sleep. Only difference was that now Mac spent an equal amount of time drinking as he did eating.

"Hi." Mac responded before pausing, unconfidently adding on, "How are you?"

"Was cold. Now 'm not." He turned around, wrapping his arms around Mac and shuffling closer to him, "How're you?"

"Better now."

"Thas' gay." Dennis laughed into his neck.

"'Cause you're so straight."

Dennis paused, leaning back so he could look Mac in the eyes, "I am."

"Uh huh."

"I mean..." He squinted at Mac, "I guess I'm more... Bisexual... But that's only if you count the sex I've had with men. Other than that I'm straight."

"So. You're bi?" 

"Only...technically. Essentially...I'm straight." 

"I don't think that's how it works."

"Mac...I don't give a shit what you think."

"You've...slept with other men?" Mac ventured.

"'Course...not anything to write home about..." Dennis again cuddled up closer against Mac. They fell into a comfortable silence, Dennis gently stroking Macs side. They stayed like this until both men drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for another short chapter. mac being confident is best mac.

**Author's Note:**

> There's not enough fat mac fic so I guess it's up to me to write it all. i've never posted fic b4... i'm writing more of this because im gay and love fat mac. also: dennis is stupid


End file.
